


Time Passes

by Zoonr



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, MSR, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-17
Updated: 2002-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2669141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoonr/pseuds/Zoonr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time was passing, and she’d give anything now to slow it to a grinding halt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Passes

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted at my website zoonr.tripod.com in July 2002. This was my first fan fiction ever published.

"You'll be showing soon."  The words tapped inside her head like the plink plink sound of water dropping from a faucet.  Scully smoothed her hand over her flat stomach, and stepped closer toward the mirror.  Soon, but not yet, she thought.  Maybe there would still be time.  Time for him to return.  Time to see this process from start to finish,  minus a couple of months.  Time for him to be surprised by her words rather than shocked by her appearance.  Time was passing, and she'd give anything now to slow it to a grinding halt.            She moved away from the mirror, walked through the bedroom, and back into the living room.  She hadn't intended to come here today.  Hadn't been here in weeks, not since the day after he was taken from her.    

But today she needed to feel close to him.  Dana Scully was not a woman who would let her be drawn in by self pity and sentimental indulgence.  It was unproductive, irrational and if she were honest with herself, it was just too difficult.    

But here she was, sitting on Mulder’s black leather couch; her hand gliding over its surface, feeling it's cool skin.  How many times had they sat here together?  How many midnight conversations began here?  And there was something else...           She knew she should tell Agent Doggett soon.  Before long it would be impossible to keep it a secret from anyone.  She wasn’t sure why she had waited this long.   Scully told herself that it was safer.   If people knew too soon about the baby it could interfere with the search.  They could use it against her the way that everything else she cared about in her life had been used against her.    

But that wasn't the only reason she stayed silent.  She was being selfish.   It wasn't right that other people should know before him.  Isn't one of the joys of learning you're expecting a child being able to tell the child's father of the news?    

At least that's the way it always seemed in the made--for--TV movies that her own mother was so fond of.  But this was no movie.  This was her life, such as it was, and Dana Scully knew only one thing for certain.  She was more alone now than she had ever been.         The leather sofa creaked as she sat back, her eyes lazily looking out the window.   The sun outside was slipping beneath the horizon and there was a purple pink glow coming in through the glass.  The only sounds were from the fish tank to her right; the aerator bubbling and gently churning water while a small Suckerfish twirled in its wake.    

She never really considered the fish.   Were they always there?  She knew they’d been there a long time, and thought that they had probably seen so much.  They were here that night and she felt a flush.  Ridiculous!  She shrugged off the thought as a hormonal imbalance.  Has it come to this already?  So soon?  Had he been gone so long that she needed to make a connection with him via four tiny goldfish and one ugly sucker?  Get a grip, Dana, she told herself, and Scully settled back on the couch and drifted into sleep.    

*****  

She was exhausted.  It wasn't that she had physically exerted herself or hadn’t gotten enough sleep.  She was emotionally whipped.  The last few days had been full of tense encounters and tiring conversation.  Memories drudged up that she hadn't ever expected to relive.   Daniel had come back into her life after ten years.    

Scully had not thought much about him during that time.  Probably not even once in at least five or six years.  So much had happened that he seemed insignificant until she was face to face with him asking her to start over.  Go back to a life that she had given up.   But instead of accepting his offer, she walked away a second time.   Only this time it wasn't due to moral obligation or a need to start a new life.  Instead, it was to live the life she had.  The one she had chosen, long before she consciously knew it.  She made a decision and took a breath.  Then, she spoke.  

"What if there's only one choice," she said.  "And all the others were wrong."   She sat slumped on the couch.  Her shoulder touched his lightly.  Her eyelids were so heavy, and even as she spoke she could feel them closing over her eyes.   "And there were signs along the way to pay attention to."  

"And each choice would lead us to this very moment.  One wrong turn and we wouldn’t be sitting here together,” Mulder continued.  He was looking directly ahead, and a smile appeared over his lips.  More of a thoughtful smirk, actually.  "Well, that says a lot.  A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot.  Maybe more than we should be getting into at this late an hour."  He turned to face her and trailed off.  She was asleep.    

He looked at her for a moment.  Wow, she was beautiful.  He lifted his hand up to her face, and he pushed a few strands of hair gently behind her ear as he had seen her do so many times before.  She probably doesn't know she does it, he thought, enjoying yet another treasure about her that was his alone.    

He shifted his body slightly and reached for a blanket that was resting on the other side of her.  Mulder pulled it gently over her body and tucked its edges in around her.   He looked at her a beat longer and then rose to get ready for bed.  

*****  

The wind was stronger than the rain.  A tree branch scratched loudly against the window, arousing Scully from her sleep.   The room was dark, except from the light of Mulder's fish tank.  She stretched out on the sofa, stifled a yawn, and glanced at her watch.  Twelve-thirty.    

She was accustomed to being here this late.  She had even slept on his sofa once or twice before, but it was the end of a very long weekend and work would be waiting for her in the morning.  The branch scraped the window again as if to get her moving.   She stood up, stretched again and looked around for her shoes.    

She saw a light coming from Mulder’s room.  The door was half open and she poked her head inside.  If he was awake she should at least let him know she was going home.  It would be the curious thing to do.      

"Mulder?"  She said, not quite a whisper.   She stepped inside, leaning against the doorframe.  He was sitting in his bed, writing in some book, while the television flickered soundlessly across from him.  He wore a pair of yellow flannel pants and no shirt.  Mulder looked up at the sound of her voice.  

"Hey, Scully.  Did I wake you?"  

"No," she said.  She looked at him and spoke softly.  "I think I'm going to go home.  I'll see you tomorrow."  

"Are you sure?  It’s starting to look nasty out there.  You could stay here if you want.  I'll take the couch."  He said, casually.  It was a friendly offer he’d made countless times before.  She usually declined and braved the trip home.      

"No, that's alright, Mulder.  I'll be okay.  It'll be easier to get ready for work if I'm home."  No shocking revelations there.  Way to keep him guessing, Dana.  

"Yeah.  Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Scully."  They looked at each other silently for a moment, and then Scully looked down at her hands, breaking the distant contact.  She should leave.   She was going to leave, life altering, moments of clarity aside.    

And then their earlier conversation flooded back to her.  She had told him about Daniel.  About her life and how she would never have realized she had become a different person if she hadn't seen him again.  She had changed.  And if she was ready to admit it to herself, she wanted to change something else, too.    

"What are you doing?"  She said trying to sound casual as she stepped through the doorway.    

"Huh?  Oh, I'm just doing a little journal writing."  He was mildly embarrassed.  It's not like she knows what you're writing about, he thought.    

She took a few steps closer until she was standing near the edge of his bed.  "I didn’t know you kept a journal, Mulder."   He moved his legs over to his left and let them dangle over the side.  Scully sat beside him to his right and once again their shoulders lightly touched.  

"I haven't had it long.  I started writing in it after we found Samantha’s diary.  I never considered how cathartic it might be."  He folded the book closed and set it on the nightstand near his bed.    

"I know."  She remembered a time when she had kept a journal, too.  It was cathartic.  There was something about putting your thoughts onto paper that was unexplainably calming.  Releasing.  

After another long pause, Scully looked down at her hands again.  Why were they so damned interesting all of a sudden?   "Mulder, I'm sorry I fell asleep earlier."  

"That's okay.  I have that effect on people sometimes."  She let out an amused breath and looked up at him.    

"No, I just mean, I didn't mean to.  I was listening to what you were saying.  I just couldn't keep my eyes open.  But I had something else I wanted to tell you."  

"What is it Scully?"  He looked at her, giving her his full attention.  She hesitated, then gathered her courage and started slowly.    

"Well, I wanted to say that I don't know if its fate or the choices we make, or maybe it's a combination of them both that determines the path we take in our life.    

"And all this time I've wondered if I had made the right choices.  Should I have practiced medicine instead of joining the FBI?  Should I follow you around the world chasing aliens or should I try to lead some kind of a normal life?"  

Mulder smiled.  "Our lives aren’t normal?"  He said, teasing her.  She smirked at him playfully and continued.  

"But this past weekend, seeing Daniel again. I think, it taught me something else, too.  I think I finally found the answers to my questions.  Or at least something pointed me towards the right path.  Now I just have to decide if I’m ready to take it."  

"Are you ready?"  He looked thoughtfully into her eyes, not quite sure what she was trying to tell him.  He waited several moments before she finally responded.    

"Yes."  She pushed back an embarrassed smile, and instead reached out to grab Mulder’s hand.  She laced her fingers between his and lifted his hand slowly up to her mouth, her eyes never leaving his.   She kissed the soft skin on the back of his hand with slightly open lips.  They lingered there, pressed firmly against his skin, and then she lowered his hand.   Her heart raced yet her face remained patiently relaxed.  He stared at her for what seemed to be minutes, with nothing more than a blank look.    

And then she felt a shot of panic rise up within her.    

He doesn't want this.  

She broke her gaze and lowered her head, returning to the safety of staring at her hands.  Then she felt Mulder's fingertips gently touch her cheek, and before she had time to categorize his response as friendly or other, he leaned in to kiss her.   

Not a kiss on the forehead, like so many they had shared before.  This time his lips met hers without hesitation, and closed in around them.  They stayed like that for a few seconds, unable to move, and then their mouths opened and the kiss deepened.  Their tongues entwined as the contact became careless, filled with hasty motion and complete abandon.    

After a moment, they broke apart slightly.  Their faces were still only centimeters from each other and their breathing slowed, becoming a steady symbiotic rhythm.    

"Wow."  Mulder's voice was soft and shaky.  Not overly filled with enthusiasm, but simply with amazement.   His hand continued to rub her cheek while the other moved through her hair.   Neither of them smiled as the significance of the event hit them hard.  

After a few more breaths, Scully lifted her hand and moved it over Mulder's bare chest.  He could only watch, paralyzed by the sensation.    

Scully's hands.  

On his skin.  

Mulder's eyes flickered open and closed involuntarily.  Her touches felt like little electrical shocks moving throughout his body.  And then her lips were on his neck, moving with random, fluidic motion.  Leaving wet trails on his throat, on the underside of his face, on his chin.  As their lips met again, Scully pushed Mulder backward on the bed and he slid up so that his entire body was on it.  He gently rolled her over, pulling her up to a sitting position, while straddling her legs.  Her hands continued their assault on his chest, moving over his ribs and finally grasping at his bare back.  

Their lips never parted except to catch a few stolen breaths.   He tugged at her black jacket, and she removed her hands from his body long enough to slip the coat off.  With one arm sticking out, Mulder thoughtlessly dropped the jacket on the foot of the bed, leaving it there.   And as his hands roamed freely under her shirt, smoothing over her stomach, Mulder and Scully silently chose a new path together.  

*****  

She awoke as before - alone on Mulder's couch.  A noise from outside pulled her out of her sleep, but this time Mulder’s blanket was not wrapped around her.  This time she was truly alone, except for the fish and one small miracle concealed within her.  She would tell everyone soon enough, but not yet.  She still had time.


End file.
